


And Most of the Time He Does Just Fine (But Now and Again He Fails)

by maevewren



Series: Meaningful Magical [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Domestic Bliss, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:02:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21924880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maevewren/pseuds/maevewren
Summary: I couldn't resist a little holiday addition to the series.Title, as always, from Shel Silverstein. (This time, the poem "Bang-Klang.")
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Meaningful Magical [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542610
Comments: 2
Kudos: 103





	And Most of the Time He Does Just Fine (But Now and Again He Fails)

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resist a little holiday addition to the series.
> 
> Title, as always, from Shel Silverstein. (This time, the poem "Bang-Klang.")

Stiles congratulates himself on winning Christmas; he’s got this Elf on the Shelf thing _down_.

Derek leaves him tidying up in the kitchen, kissing him on the neck softly and telling him he’ll see Stiles in their room upstairs shortly. Stiles leans into the kiss and hums, his hands deep in soapy water in the sink. He’s distracted because he’s trying to think of the perfect place to put Frankie, their elf.

(Frankie is their son Patrick’s favorite thing about the holiday; he trumps cookies, decorated trees, sparkly lights, and Santa - hands down.)

Stiles delights in coming up with ever more clever ways to pose Frankie. After the kids go down every night in December, he gets to work. Last night he posed Frankie with a cookbook and baking supplies, flour sprinkled on his red suit, and set him next to a plate of cookies Stiles had secretly baked after bedtime. Patrick couldn’t get over it, texting endless pictures to the sheriff because he was so excited that Frankie made him cookies.

Tonight, though - tonight Stiles is upping the ante. He dries off his hands and plucks Frankie carefully from his position on the counter. Tiptoeing, he creeps into Patrick’s room.

He can’t contain a proud smile when he sees his boy all snuggled into his comforter, looking so sweet in the glow of his nightlight, his little upturned nose and long eyelashes like a doll’s. 

Still trying to make absolutely no noise, Stiles nestles Frankie into the long red and green paper chain hanging by the side of Patrick’s bed. This way, when Patrick wakes up he’ll be looking right into Frankie’s face. It’s going to be hilarious! Stiles can’t wait.

He slinks out and down the hall to his and Derek’s bedroom, where his husband is munching on a Christmas cookie while reading a biography of Ulysses S. Grant, his thick-framed glasses perched on his nose. He might even be cuter than their 4-year old, Stiles thinks fondly.

“Hey big guy,” Stiles says as he flops onto the bed. Derek just looks at him, one eyebrow raised, a few cookie crumbs clinging to his lower lip.

“Yummy,” Stiles murmurs as he leans into Derek’s space and kisses off the crumbs. Derek growls and shoves him off.

“Don’t you know better than to assault a pregnant man while he is trying to enjoy a holiday cookie?” Derek demands.

Stiles pauses. “I don’t know that that’s a lesson anyone gets taught. I certainly did not.”

Derek swats Stiles with his giant book.

“Well, now you know,” he huffs.

“Are you finished now, sir?”

Derek sighs. He places his bookmark into his book and sets it on the bedside table. “Why do you ask?”

Stiles shimmies in closer again. “Maybe I have designs on you.”

“Ugh,” Derek says. “Not sure I’m feeling it. Maybe you could just get me another cookie.”

Stiles considers it. “How about this? I’ll see if I can’t get you to start feeling it. If I can’t, I get you a cookie. No, two cookies. Deal?”

“Hmmmm,” Derek ponders. “That could work.”

Stiles grins and yanks his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor by their bed. Derek watches him silently as he finishes disrobing, then sits back patiently while Stiles removes Derek’s clothes, too.

“Getting any more interested?” Stiles asks, noticing how Derek’s eyes track over his body appreciatively.

“Maybe?” Derek smirks and removes his glasses. “I think I need more convincing.”

Stiles gets to work and has Derek completely on board in no time at all. In fact, this is shaping up to be one of their hottest nights in a long time. Now that Derek is past the yuck of his first trimester, and beginning to make peace with his changing form.

Speaking of which, Stiles can’t help but stroke the slight swell of Derek’s growing belly as their bodies writhe together, Stiles deep inside his husband and biting kisses along the back of his neck. 

“God, it’s like magic in there,” Stiles gasps as he thrusts, lost in the heat of the moment, as Derek chuckles, though it quickly turns into a moan when Stiles hits just the right spot. They’re both close and it’s wonderful, this time between just the two of them.

Which comes to a grinding halt when tiny fists pound on their door and Patrick’s frantic voice breaks through their sex haze.

“Daddy! Papa! Can I come sleep in here? Frankie’s in my room and I’m scared!” His little voice wavers; he’s terrified.

Stiles and Derek’s bodies are frozen in place, and Stiles doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“I don’t want to be in there,” Patrick continues. “I don’t like him in my room, it’s creepy!”

“I hate you so much right now,” Derek mutters, smashing his head into his pillow as Stiles eases off of him and pulls on some pajama pants.

“It’s okay, buddy,” Stiles calls through the door. “One second.” Turning to Derek, he whispers, “Since we can’t touch Frankie without ‘breaking the magic,’ I can’t move him! I think we’ll have to let him sleep in here.”

“You really should have thought this through. And now I’m going to die of blue balls.”

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“I think I should do Frankie placement from now on.”

Stiles nods sadly and opens the door for their son, who races into their bed, tears on his face.

“It was awful, Daddy,” he whimpers into Derek’s shoulder.

“Yes, it was,” Derek says while looking straight into Stiles’ eyes.

Stiles rolls his eyes and tosses some pants to Derek, who pulls them on under the covers as Stiles joins them in the bed. As they all cuddle up together and drift off to sleep, he hopes he hasn’t ruined Frankie for Patrick. But it’s hard to regret whatever brought the three of them to this moment right now, he thinks, watching the peaceful faces of his two favorite boys, Patrick the little spoon to big Derek. 

Stiles places the lightest of kisses on both their foreheads. He knows that he and Derek will be laughing about this night for years to come, and it warms him all over to think about this life they have created together, this family, this mutual history.

He’s so damn lucky.

And he owes Derek the best blowjob of his life.

 _What a hardship_ , he muses happily as he follows his husband and son into sleep.


End file.
